alt_daphne | Entries tagged with queenie

I don't know about the rest of the houses, but here in Slytherin everyone is positively bubbling with excitement over Saturday's demonstration! I find that there's nothing that re-aligns one's purpose and sense of industry like a little entertainment. "Give a boy or girl something diverting to look forward to, and then smile at their gratitude" was a saying I grew up hearing from my Grandmother, and it's one I've held as my own ever since.

(Younger students should, of course, remember that our Professors are skilled professionals, and that anyone who attempts to emulate their performance either in advance or after the demonstration will be subject to the appropriate disciplinary action.)

But in all seriousness, this is precisely why things like Quidditch Matches, Hogsmeade Visits, Plays, Balls, and Feasts are such long-standing traditions at Hogwarts. For a student to really be taught the ways of the world, they must be taught to enjoy and manage the pleasures, just as surely as they must be taught to manage the tasks. I have a feeling that there may even be some adults and professors reading who know exactly what I mean and even agree with me, at least a little!

Though I will admit that it's true we don't often get a Ball at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, there's usually at least one massive, school-wide event for everyone to rally 'round!

Oh, and quickly: thank you to everyone who wished me Happy Birthday yesterday. We had a little celebration in the common room and managed to sneak Queenie in so she could have her pick of the tarts. My Mother sent me the most wonderful set of winter robes, perfect for the upcoming season, and I must say that they might be even more adult than my Yule Ball robes. It's hard to believe I'm sixteen years old! I think that shall take a while to sink in...

I always wondered if the Prefect's car was different from the others on the Hogwarts Express! When I was younger I always fancied that it had massive plush seats that one could recline back and take a nap in, as well as piped-in music from the wireless, hot towels for refreshing one's complexion, and a full spread of tea and treats.

I'm sure the rest of you will be satisfied to know that it's just like any other car, though there is a little tea service set up, with tea, water, and some ordinary biscuits.

But we've all been moving through the cars to help the firsties. Draco and I have already had to hunt down an escaped rat (well, Draco hunted it down, while I tried to cheer the little girl up) and break up a quarrel between two boys. I hope this doesn't mean that the new firsties will be as tempestuous as last years!

King's Cross was more of a mad house than ever, wasn't it? Or maybe it just seemed that way because I, Astoria, and Queenie were all on our own. Mother and Father are still down in Brighton with Grandmother, and Miss Jessup had some kind of terrible stomach upset this morning (the noises from the loo were the stuff of nightmares, ugh!). Mr Krumgold had insisted on escorting the three of us, but then he was waylaid by an emergency floo call from the director he's working with (Christmas and holiday pantos already! I can't wait). So there I was, managing all our luggage, owl cages, and other odds and ends, while trying to keep Queenie nearby so she wouldn't get lost in the crowd.

(By the way, F-F, it's quite evident that you had a French upbringing now)

Well, somehow we managed, but I haven't managed to check on Queenie yet. Astoria, be a dear and see that she's allright, won't you?

You really don't know a thing about it, so please, be sisterly for once and leave the matter be. I don't want you upsetting Queenie when we get home, and Holda knows she'll be upset enough, what with Mother and I barely speaking.

Anyway, you're really still too young to understand.

Be sweet about it and I'll make it up to you. That baroque cloisonne bracelet you admire so much? I'll let you borrow it for the rest of term, how does that sound?

Do me a favour.

Write to Mother (by book or by Owl, I don't care), and include this in your message:

Daphne says thank you for the necklace, the stockings, the sachet, and the chocolates. She also says that she has no intention of speaking to you until you sort the matter out.

And no, I will not tell you what the "matter" is, and you're not to ask Mother, either, you nosy little snipe. I'd rather go through Queenie but you know how sensitive she is.

If you deviate one iota from this exact, specific request, I will do something so monstrous that it will haunt your dreams until the END OF TIME!

And you know I can do it, too.

Mother,

I've had an owl from Queenie this morning. She was terribly distressed. She said that you and Father had a row last night that woke her up from sleep. You and Father never row; she had no idea what to think and is worried that it means she's done something to cause it.

I can only presume that your argument was about this week's Dish! Really, Mother, Father may not follow that kind of press, but you had to know that it would get back to him, one way or another. I can't imagine that any man would enjoy seeing his wife discuss her past love life in a magazine, but you know how private Father is. It's just as Grandmother always said: "he shies away from the limelight so that it will better reach the rest of us."

Now, Mother, prepare yourself for hard words: it really doesn't do to entertain a fantasy based on the mere possibility of something.

And it isn't fair to me, or to Father. Or to HIM, for that matter. You have to tell him that the possibility exists, and then the matter can be solved in short order, I'm sure. ~~And I really need to kn~~

If you won't say something to him, I suppose it will be up to me.

Love,
Daphne

Mother,

Thank you for the lovely bouquet of clematis. I'm sure that both I and my roommates will find them terribly useful for staying up late and studying, but meanwhile, I've had to put them on a table right outside our room so that they won't disturb our sleep! This is a particularly strong hybrid you've hit on this time, isn't it? I do so like that rich, purpley colour, too.

Now, I happen to know that I'll have the room to myself around eight o'clock on Friday morning (I shall skip breakfast), and that Fridays are when Father has early meetings in addition to being when Queenie's chorale group practises. So, by that calculation, you should be alone in the house at that time, yes?

Because I really do need to speak with you, Mother. In person. And I think a fire-chat should be as good an approximation as we can manage at short notice.

Please tell me that I can count on your for eight o'clock?

Love,
Daphne

Did anyone else see Mrs Lestrange arrive at supper? She's so impressively tall, isn't she? I love her style of robes, too. I wonder who designs them? They're very crisp and severe, but nonetheless eye-catching. I think I would like to try a look like that in a few years. I imagine she was here to look into the attack on Professor Carrow, since it looked as if she was heading straight in the direction of the hospital wing. I've heard people saying that a few of the older students might have been behind the attack, but it's hard to imagine that someone as important as Mrs Lestrange would be brought in if it were just students. At any rate I am relieved that the incident seemed to happen far away from the castle, on the edges of the Forbidden Forest. I always knew that there had to be a good reason that the Forest was Forbidden.

Mother wrote to both me and Astoria and says she has some tremendous news to pass along once we've come home. I'm quite literally on the edge of my seat (really! Come see me if you don't believe...) wondering what it would be. But then that might be because I'm simply excited to return to Belgravia for the holidays. Mother has all sorts of New London excitements lined up for us girls, including a trip to the new beauty salon in Mayfair. My hair's in sore need of some pruning, so I particularly can't wait for that. Millie, Mother said you could come along, if your parents will allow it! I know you don't believe me, but I still think you would look especially nice with a bit of a fringe.

Who all is attending the Malfoy Christmas party? I know that Draco had planned on inviting everyone in our year last time, but from what I heard that doesn't seem to be the case this year. Blaise, I know you're going... who else? Astoria's thrilled because she'll finally be allowed to attend this year (as Mother and Father's guest, of course, since she doesn't really know Draco), and she's already pestering me about what robes to choose and what all. Queenie's probably beside herself because she'll have to stay home alone with Miss Jessup while we're all out celebrating. I can't say I envy her that. Miss Jessup is a nice woman, but she has a Christmas fixation on gingerbread people (not houses, just people!) that's downright unhealthy. I remember one Christmas, many years ago, Mother and Father were out at an event and Miss Jessup had us decorating gingerbread people until nearly sun-up, and she was weeping into the lace sleeve of her robe because her gingerbread replication of the Lord Protector wasn't quite as symmetrical as it ought to have been. I never told her that Father ate her lopsided Gingerbread Lord at breakfast the next morning. Dunked it into his tea, no less! Poor, dear Miss Jessup.

I love times like this in the common room, when we're all meant to be revising but are really just listening to music and chattering about instead. I think I'll make some tea and get comfortable. My eyes are too bleary to read anymore!

Current Mood: excited

Yesterday was positively the most tremendous birthday I've had yet! I remember being so excited for thirteen, how it sounded so grown up, but fourteen just sounds ages beyond that for some reason. Mother must've known, for the party hamper she sent was filled with things suited to a more mature gathering. The fairy lights are still going in the common room, and I do so hope we can keep them up until they flit out. They add such a lovely cheer to the place. I have just gone and cleared the streamers off that high-backed chair near the fire. As much as I would like to have a throne at all times, if I don't remove the streamers now some brute shall happen along and tear them off, not even thinking to ask if I had plans to save them.

Now, I do so hope that everyone invited had a lovely time. Blaise, the doves were such a clever touch. I was admiring them all evening, and then, when you suggested we take the cage up to the castle parapets I thought we were simply going to free them, I didn't at all expect them to transform into a shower of brilliant, sparkling stars! It was so beautiful. And romantic! Draco, your guitar solo was really so impressive; I had no idea that you'd come so far. And that song you're trying to write? "Hey, Hey Merlin?" It's so catchy! Milli and I have had it stuck in our heads all morning.

Belinda, your trick with the diva's delight had me in absolute stitches! I used to love those sweets more than any other, but my voice tutor has restricted me from them until further notice. He says that if I rely on them too much they'll make my real voice lazy, and I shall never progress and be able to sing a true aria. Anyway, I've just found more diva's delights in a dish on a pouf, do let me know if you would like any extra. Oh, and someone's hidden their tea cup under the pouf, too! Maybe they didn't like the reading in their tea leaves?

That reminds me...some of you may have noticed the beautiful bouquet of snowdrops that my parents sent me; they're a breed that Mother has especially cultivated so that they will bring about a happy, restful sleep if the flowers are placed near a bed. She and her society ladies often deliver them to the patients at St. Mungos, you see. Well, I had all of them in a vase by my bed when I went to sleep last night, and I scarcely wanted to wake up this morning! Sleep was like a delicious, feathery blanket I wanted to wear forever. So, for all of you who were kind enough to attend my party, if you would like one of the flowers to put on your bed-side table so that you too may experience their magic, please let me know. I think I have far too many for one healthy person to have. The snowdrop should stay alive for two weeks or so, but thereafter you can dry it out and keep it under your pillow. It will still work, thought not as strongly.

Teddy, I must say that your coll

Oh!

OH.

I've just found the cake. I had left it neatly wrapped up on a little pedestal table so that Astoria and I could send the last slice to Queenie. But SOMEONE HAS GONE AND EATEN IT! Not just eaten, the plate has been laved clean so that nothing but grotesque streaks of spittle have been left behind. Ugh! WHO WOULD DO SUCH A HORRID THING? You've just deprived a very small girl of a slice of cake from her own sisters. I hope your stomach becomes so upset that you vom up for DAYS! I bet you're the same beast who grew that odd, glowy fungus in the girl's toilet, too. Now I have to go write to Queenie and tell her that I couldn't save her a slice of cake because one singular person in my house is horrid. At least I hope that it's singular person. Surely Slytherin would never bring together multiple cake thieves!

I'm up early enough to have written Mother, Father, and Queenie an owl, and do some reading, too. I'd like to get to breakfast before there's nothing but porridge left - yech! I expect I'll be exhausted by this afternoon, since we were up late last night with Professor Sinistra, but it really can't be helped.

News about what happens with the boggarts much have reached the Gryffindors, only I thought they were supposed to be brave and bold? Ron Weasley fainted while star-gazing last night, and for no good reason that I can see! Well, a shooting star did streak across the eastern sky at that particular moment, but that's no excuse to clutch your chest, gasp "Oh my heavens!" and crumble to the ground in a heap. To be perfectly honest it was quite amusing. Especially when Blaise yelled out "Do hurry, Professor Sinistra! Weasley's got the vapours!" I think he really might have had them, too! Upon rousing, I half-expected him to bat his eyelashes and call for smelling salts. Or maybe one of those lacy fans, charmed with a rivitialising spell.

Anyway, it only goes to show that karma, that thing Padma and Parvati talk about sometimes, probably really exists. For some people, at least!